Broken
by fireolin
Summary: Killua's given himself up to Illumi to save Alluka, not knowing his family were planning his wedding. Now he's under Illumi's control. Gon's desperate to save Killua, but everything's failed, and now they're both in trouble. (One-shot tumblr prompt 'Helpless'. Pre-relationship Killugon. Rated T for Gon's intense physical suffering. CW: violence, blood mention, bug mention.)


Having strung Gon by the wrists from a steel rack on the ceiling and smashed his fist through Gon's left cheek, Hisoka arranges himself leaning on his shoulder in the doorway of the Zoldyck butlers' storeroom.

"How annoying that you're broken." Hisoka heaves a sigh and picks at his sharp fingernails. "I'm tired of always being disappointed. Illumi promised me you had your Nen back. Well, I suppose I never told him _when_ I'd kill you."

 _"_ _Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm!"_ Gon's protests are blocked by the rag stuffed in his mouth. He swings as Hisoka's bungee gum pulls his wrists high behind his back. His shoulders burn with the pain. The fumes from the gag, a cleaning cloth full of chemicals, make his eyes run with tears. He bites it savagely, trying to grind his teeth through.

Hisoka slants his golden eyes up at Gon, then flicks a switch by the door. The room goes dark. Gon wills Hisoka to leave. Instead, a video screen on the wall by the door lights up.

"A parting gift," Hisoka coos. "Since it's Killua's wedding. I want you to see. Illumi's controlling Killua now. He thinks he's marrying the one he most loves." He runs his gaze down Gon's body, eyes glimmering like topaz in the blue light from the screen. "We both know who that is, don't we."

 _"_ _Mmm mmmmm!"_ Gon glares back. All that matters is the last thing he saw before he blacked out — Illumi jabbing a long needle into the nape of Killua's neck. He has to get to Killua. If he can get his feet up behind him and push against the ceiling, he might escape. He tries — pain jags through his shoulders and he bounces down. Hisoka's fastened his left ankle to the floor, dammit. He twists, hauling his wrists apart behind him with every ounce of his strength. It's useless. He gasps for air through his nose.

Hisoka laughs and slams the door behind him. Gon can hear his heels click away. In the dark, slowly spinning from his restraints, he can just peer out his good eye at the video feed. A small crowd including Killua's family is gathered in a stone chamber decked with stands of white camellias and lit candles. Piano music plays softly and sunlight falls from deep-set windows high above. The chamber still feels like a fortress.

Fighting to expand his lungs, Gon can feel his arms slowly tearing from their sockets and he realises, this will kill him if he can't escape. But the video is worse.

Before he loses sight of the screen, the view zooms in on Killua. _No._ Gon's heart won't beat.

Killua waits on a raised dais at the end of the chamber. It's wrong that Gon thinks he looks beautiful like this, his face delicate and pale above his soft grey suit and white vest. Gon tenses as he absorbs the sight of Illumi beside Killua. Illumi's only an inch taller, but in charge, draping his arm across Killua's upper back as he leans into him, hair falling behind Killua like liquid night as he murmurs near Killua's ear. Resting on Killua's shoulder, his fingers look like the legs of a — a giant cave weta. Long and pale and creepy and _wrong_. Once, back home, Gon had slipped one of those down Killua's back to make him shriek — why's he remembering that _now?_ His whole head throbs and he has to squeeze his good eye clear of tears and focus.

There's a slim dark-haired woman in a fitted butler's suit facing them. Gon doesn't recognise her. A small book rests in her hand, a red ribbon dangling from the bottom, holding her place. She must be the celebrant. Gon's heart is choking him. Somehow he has to stop this, but _how_? Everything he's tried to help Killua until now has failed. Now, even breathing is a fight as he dangles forward from his wrists. When he can drag air in through his nose, through the chemicals he can smell roasting meat and sweet spices. The wedding feast, cooking nearby. Nausea snakes through his gut. His jaw aches, the cloth pushing inside his cheeks, as he turns past rows of glass tumblers, goblets and champagne flutes glittering in the light from the screen. He's lost the video again — he kicks out, catching the toe of his boot on a rack, crying out into the gag when his shoulders jerk. His muscles stretch like wire filaments. His bones press his skin taut.

But he's slowed his motion. Gon's heart thumps wildly as he tries to breathe. Killua's in view again, hair swept back from his brow, lustrous and contained like he'd never choose to wear it. His face is as blank as a salvaged doll's that Gon remembers in a second-hand shop on Whale Island. His eyes are dulled blue glass.

Gon closes his eyes as his stomach shifts. Even if he is still broken, he's got to find his reawakened Nen. He has to still his mind.

A liquid sensation over his skin… Then his head swims, and all he can feel is his shirt tugging, sticky with blood. His mind swims again, and he can still hear Kalluto sing out: ' _A thousand cuts... Confetti…'_ Voice pure as crystal. Pink eyes laughing at him. As he'd sunk to the ground, he'd thought how sharp Kalluto's cheekbones and chin were, sharp as paper. And how much they reminded him of Killua.

How could Kalluto condemn his own brother? In the heart of his family, Killua's alone.

Swinging slowly around, Gon focuses deep inside himself. There's something — but it's like mud. He can't hold it or shape it. Tremors run through him. _Killua…!_ He must…

His fingertips heat…

And then it's gone.

 _"_ _MMMMMMMMM!"_ He howls into the gag.

Next time he slows, he sees _her_ and frowns. Pink hair. _Lots_ of pink hair — fountaining from a high pony-tail bound with gold ribbon, except for two long bangs framing her face at either side. Her skin shows subtle lines of age despite her girlish appearance, and Gon shivers. How much older than Killua is she? Crap, Killua's worst nightmare would be marrying an old hag. Gon's eye narrows. He knows her. But it's been a long time. Where from?

 _Fuck._ He closes his eyes, shaking his head slowly in disbelief and recognition. He'd been too embarrassed to watch when Leorio had put his hands all over her, around seven years ago. She'd got fifty years off her sentence for slowing them down. But she's meant to be a prisoner still, in Trick Tower — what are they doing, marrying _her_ to Killua?

She _had_ been very good at making deals.

Gon howls and his fists clench as he tries to wrench them apart again. He kicks, bites the gag. His shoulders are tearing. His rage wakens _something_ in him though — he can feel it. Can he use it? His fists heat and a black feeling rises through him, streaming over his skin. And memory flashes… Killua, his hair crackling with lighting, eyes bright with despair and horror. Gon shakes with frustration and _screams_.

When he can next glare at the screen, Killua's poised holding the ring over her, Leroute's, finger. Gon tries to swallow but his throat is dry.

Finally, Killua speaks, in a low and even tone. "I take you—" His eyebrows draw together, but Illumi's hand tightens on his shoulder.

Killua clears his throat and continues. "I, Killua Zoldyck, take you—"

Gon's legs thrash.

"I — I take—"

The crowd makes restless noises. Everything in Gon squeezes tight as he _wills_ Killua to _wake up!_

But Illumi's fingers wrap behind Killua's neck. Meanwhile, Leroute shifts her hips subtly towards him, lifts her chin and smiles. She blinks her long lashes and fastens her magenta eyes on Killua's grey-blue ones.

Gon's stomach drops through the floor. He can see the moment Killua's eyes soften and when the tightness leaves his jaw. A smile curves across Killua's lips. The corner of his mouth quirks up and his cheeks flush with colour. He continues in a gentler tone, "I take you, Gon Freecss—"

And Gon can't breathe.

His pulse erupts. For a long moment he can see nothing, feel nothing. Then something like an electric shock hits his fingertips, his toes.

 _Killua can't, he doesn't, he never said—_

He can't think it through. He thrashes, pulling at his wrists, pulling and pulling. He squeezes his eyes shut, struggles again like a fish hopeless caught in a net until his shoulders are tearing. His physical strength just isn't enough against Hisoka's ties — but he has to get free. Again, he reaches for his Nen.

He reaches—

Gon _howls_ into the gag.

Finally he dangles, turning in the dark. They can't force Killua into this. _Killua is his._ He has to stop this happening, he has to. But _he can't_. Sweat trickles between his shoulder blades. There's a void behind his rib cage that feels like the night sky slowly spreading through him as he spins. The fire in his shoulders is as tiny as stars. The pain of his broken cheek, soft as the brush of a comet's tail. Tears leak from the corners of his eyelids.

#

When Gon can peer out his good eye again, Killua's still holding the ring. His brow is unruffled, his cheeks are pallid. Maybe there's movement in his blue eyes but it's hard to see, like a tide tugging at the calm surface of an ocean.

There are times Gon's felt pulled in by the tides in Killua's eyes. Swept in, words and caution left behind — and he would have tried to kiss Killua if Killua hadn't turned from him, leaving him clumsy and struggling to find his feet. Later, when he'd thought about it, he'd been sure his own eyes had no tides in them, nothing special that would pull Killua into him the same way. Just ordinary brown eyes.

He remembers the tides around Whale Island, how they've dragged unwary swimmers and sailors under and drowned them. They're hard to fight and won't be controlled.

Is this costing Illumi? He can only hope as he tries to breathe. Illumi's hand has settled behind Killua's collar, just below where he pushed the needle in. Illumi's lips flow over soft words that Gon can't hear. His dark pupils aren't easy to look at.

Killua is motionless, but his eyelashes sink half-way. They're dark already, so maybe Gon imagines the shadow passing beneath them.

He thinks maybe he imagines the spark across Killua's irises too, until Killua's lips pull back from his teeth.

 _"_ _Gonnnnnnnn…!"_

A burst of white light.

 _#_

 _Killuaa!_ Gon's heart pounds. Killua must be hunting for him, but he won't know where to look.

Everything's dark, the screen's gone out, but he can still feel himself twisting round. A low vibration jitters the glasses. Blue light flickers in the gap under the door.

Something moves in Gon, reflex faster than thought. Heat gathers around his fists and the glasses spark orange. Then he's falling — the floor slams into his boots. His gag falls out in a burst of flame, searing his lips, and he tastes ash.

Hisoka's bungee gum has disappeared.

He can't think about that. Gon grits his teeth, glares at the door and staggers up. His arms won't work yet, but his legs do, and that's enough. One kick, the door crashes open and he bursts into the dim red emergency lighting in the corridor. He can smell roast meat and the acrid stench of fried electrics. His shoulder crunches into the wall and he gasps rather than cry out. Flexing his neck and joints to limber up, he sways along the corridor towards the flashes of blue light, the screams and crashes.

He should feel more pain, but his chest is too warm when he remembers. Warmer than a fire on winter's coldest night. Warmer than the heart of a volcano. Killua had looked _happy_ when he tried to make that vow. His cheeks had flushed pink, he'd looked like he _wanted_ to say the words. And, he _chose Gon._

Gon's head throbs — it's hard to think clearly as he pushes on. But he can't think about anything else. Chunks of ceiling fall around him, an explosion shatters the air. Is it true that Killua _loves_ him? Would Killua really want to _marry_ him?

First, he needs to find Killua and escape. Then — his good eye blurs with tears — he needs to find out.


End file.
